


Family Ties: Beautiful Bastard

by darkrose



Series: Mad World [1]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Prostitute, Breathplay, Community: kink_bingo, Humiliation, Kink Meme, M/M, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-19
Updated: 2010-06-19
Packaged: 2017-10-10 04:34:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/95542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkrose/pseuds/darkrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loghain has a taste for pretty blond human boys. One night, the madam of the Pearl offers him something special: a young man who looks enough like Maric to be his son.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family Ties: Beautiful Bastard

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Telesilla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telesilla/gifts).



It was always the same, and it had been since before Maric set foot on that blighted ship. Loghain walked in the door of the Pearl. Sanga greeted him and after a short wait, sent him to the back rooms, where a pretty, blond, human boy of somewhere between sixteen and twenty-four would be waiting. They never looked exactly right, so Loghain always took them face-down. He'd pay Sanga and leave. Everyone involved would pretend they didn't know who he was, or who he wanted.

Tonight was different. Sanga came up to him as soon as he arrived, looking quite pleased with herself. It made Loghain nervous.

"Oh, I'm so glad to see you. I have something--some_one_, I should say--that I have been saving for you." She smiled at him, almost coquettish, and he ground his teeth. He'd never had the patience for this sort of game.

"Karli, go and fetch Alistair please," Sanga told one of the girls. After a few moments, the girl returned, followed by--

_Maric._

Whoever his mother was, she'd given the king a beautiful bastard. Unlike Cailan, there were no traces of Rowan in his face, only Maric's, sharpened and more defined. He had broad shoulders and narrow hips, and instead of trying to slouch seductively, he stood almost like a soldier at parade rest.

"Alistair's new to us," Sanga said, "_Very_ new. You would be his first client--if you decide he appeals, of course."

Loghain snorted. Sanga knew damn well what Loghain wanted, what he'd been looking for. Something about her slight stress on the word "first", though, made him pause. "Are you honestly telling me he's a virgin?"

Sanga's smile widened. "So he says, ser. It's difficult to say with the lads, of course, but I can promise that no one has had him since he's been here."

"If you'll come with me, my--ser." The boy--Alistair--even sounded like Maric after several days without sleep. Loghain followed him down the hall to one of the larger rooms. Whether or not he was truly a virgin, he certainly didn't have much experience as a whore; he started to strip as soon as he shut the door, without making a show of it. Loghain found that oddly appealing.

The boy's hair was redder than Maric's had been, and cut short; his eyes were hazel instead of blue and there was a knowing look to them that Loghain had never seen in Maric's. The nose, though, and Maker, his _mouth_....

"How do you want me, ser?" Alistair was smirking, and it annoyed Loghain as much as it had when he'd seen that expression on Maric's face. Now, though, he could indulge himself--it's what he was paying for, after all--and so he grabbed the back of the boy's head and kissed him, hard.

There was no trace of the smirk when Loghain finally broke the kiss and pushed Alistair away. He was staring at Loghain, eyes wide.

"Sit," Loghain ordered him. Alistair started to sit cross-legged in the center of the bed, but Loghain stopped him. "No--on the end, here. Feet on the floor." Once the boy was arranged to his satisfaction, Loghain knelt and took Alistair's rather sizeable cock in his mouth.

Hearing Alistair gasp, Loghain felt a little smug. He'd spent more nights than he cared to remember with his cock in his hand, picturing himself on his knees like this in front of Maric. He didn't usually do this with whores, not because he considered it degrading--after all, he was the one with his teeth near another man's prick--but because it was too hard to pretend. Until now.

Alistair moaned, reaching up as if he meant to grab Loghain's hair. That was a step too far, and Loghain growled around Alistair's cock and scraped his teeth along his shaft. The boy lowered his hands, but his hips twitched, pressing his cock against Loghain's sharp teeth. Loghain smirked, and bit down just a little.

With another loud moan, Alistair came in Loghain's mouth. He tasted almost sweet, which was strangely fitting for this virgin whore, Maric's son. Loghain sat back on his heels, licking his lips.

"I...I'm sorry, my--ser--" the boy stammered. He looked like he might bolt any second, terrified of Loghain's anger. Loghain smiled, and shook his head.

"Don't be sorry. I'm quite pleased so far. But now, I want you on your back. I trust you've prepared yourself?"

Alistair actually blushed, and nodded. "Yes, ser."

"Excellent." Loghain kicked off his boots and started undoing his trousers. "Show me."

He turned an even deeper shade of pink, but he obeyed, spreading his legs wide so that Loghain could see his hole glistening with oil. There was a bottle of the same stuff on the bedside table, and Loghain used a fair amount of it on his own prick; unlike many other nobles, he wasn't interested in breaking his toys. Especially not this one, not so soon.

With that in mind, he tucked a bolster under Alistair's back, raising his hips, then coated two fingers in the oil and worked one into Alistair's ass. He was incredibly tight, and Loghain began to suspect that Sanga had been telling the truth. "I advise you to relax, boy. This will be painful no matter what I do, and you're not making it any easier on yourself."

"I'm _trying_. Ser," Alistair said through his teeth. Loghain slapped his hip, hard.

"I don't know who you were before, or how you ended up here--and right now I don't care. I've paid good coin for you, and I suggest you watch that pretty mouth of yours." He shoved another finger in, smirking when Alistair gasped. "Unless, of course, you're going to beg me to put my cock in here now."

"No...I...no, ser, I'm sorry." Instead of relaxing, Alistair had clenched even tighter around Loghain's fingers. Loghain shifted his angle slightly, chuckling when Alistair's cock twitched, half-hard again already.

"I think you're ready," Loghain removed his hand and stroked himself a few times, mostly to give the boy a good look at him. Alistair's mouth was open, his eyes fixed on Loghain's erection; as Loghain watched, Alistair licked his lips.

Loghain laughed. "I see that you're in the right line of work. Very well; I won't keep you waiting any longer." He knelt between Alistair's thighs and carefully pressed into him.

"Maker's _balls_," Loghain gasped, as Alistair shrieked in pain. Fingers were well enough, but the boy's ass was so tight and hot around Loghain's cock that it took an effort of will to go slowly. "How is it possible that no one's fucked you before?"

There was a moment's pause before Alistair realized it wasn't a rhetorical question. "I was...oh, Maker...I was in the Chantry...I was training as a Templar."

Loghain grunted, surprised. It certainly explained both the boy's virginity and the fighter's build, but he had a difficult time imagining how the Chantry could be bad enough to make the Pearl look like a preferable alternative.

"My gain, then," he said, "and the Chantry's loss." He put his hands on either side of Alistair's waist and shoved in deeper.

It seemed to take forever, but finally Loghain was buried balls-deep inside of Alistair. The boy was breathing heavily, but he hadn't cried out again. His eyes were closed, lips parted and his face flushed, beautiful both as his father's son and in his own right.

"Beg for it," Loghain ordered.

Alistair's eyes snapped open. "What?"

"You heard me, boy. Beg for me to fuck you."

"Why?" Alistair demanded. "You're going to do it anyway--"

Loghain slapped him across the face. "Because I want to hear you beg, my pretty whore. And because I've bought and paid for you, you'll do as I say."

Alistair closed his eyes again. "Please, ser...fuck me, please..." His voice was too breathy, and had it not been for the way his asshole clenched around his dick, Loghain would have thought it entirely an act.

"I want to know what it feels like...I've been waiting for you....waiting for so long..." Hazel eyes opened, and there was a malicious gleam in them as Alistair slid the knife home. "...just like my father."

Loghain snarled and clamped a big hand over Alistair's throat. The boy bucked underneath him as Loghain squeezed more tightly; he was strong enough that he might have dislodged Loghain if he hadn't been on his back. Still he refused to submit, clawing at Loghain's arm. "If you kill me, Sanga will--" he gasped.

Loghain bared his teeth. "Sanga will be very annoyed, until I pay her three times what you're worth. You know who I am; at worst, it would be a short-lived scandal that Cailan's father-in-law accidentally killed a whore."

He felt something nudge his thigh. Looking down, he saw that Alistair was fully hard now. Curious, Loghain tightened his grip on Alistair's throat, and the boy's cock twitched in response.

"Ah...so _this_ is what you want," Loghain said, "being choked while I pound the defiance out of you and remind you that you may be Maric's son, you're still nothing more than a greedy, cock-hungry slut?"

Alistair whimpered, and Loghain smiled. "Very well, my boy--if this is what you want, then you shall have it." Keeping his hand where it was, he pulled out almost all the way, then slammed back into Alistair with brutal force. The sound Alistair made wasn't _quite_ a scream, but it was close enough for Loghain.

He choked Alistair as he fucked him hard. Loghain was careful to let the boy breathe now and then, and it was apparently enough, because before long, Alistair was lifting his hips and fucking back against Loghain. He came without even touching himself, throwing his head back and moaning.

"Whore," Loghain hissed, and he wasn't sure if he meant Alistair or Maric, who'd fucked everyone but, it seemed, his best friend, the one who'd loved him more than life or honor. When he came, though, it was Maric's name on his lips.

Alistair watched Loghain through hooded eyes as he cleaned himself up and straightened his clothes. When he'd finished, he turned to look at the boy. "Who was your mother?" he asked. Alistair sat up and shrugged.

"A serving girl at Redcliffe, or so I was told, my lord."

Loghain snorted. "Knowing Maric, she was probably an elf. It would certainly explain why he never acknowledged you or brought you to court."

"Perhaps. I never knew her. Arl Eamon raised me at first, and he didn't speak of it."

"Eamon?" Loghain frowned. Why would Rowan's brother take in Maric's bastard?

Alistair's mouth twisted. "Yes, my lord. I slept in the stables, mind you. Until I was ten, and Arlessa Isolde finally convinced him to turn me out. He sent me to the Chantry."

That part did make sense. Eamon's pretty, simpering Orlesian wife must have assumed the boy was her husband's. And for Eamon, putting Alistair where he could never challenge Cailan for the throne must have seemed like the ideal solution. "And then you left. Why?"

"I hated it there," Alistair said flatly. "The training was all right, but I didn't want to spend my life cooped up in the Tower, or hunting down apostates. And I--" He closed his mouth and looked down.

"Tell me," Loghain snapped.

Alistair stared at his hands for a moment before lifting his chin and meeting Loghain's eyes, his expression so like Maric's that Loghain skipped a breath. "I was nineteen. I was going to have to take my final vows in a year, and...." He chewed on his bottom lip. "It's supposed to be a secret. They give Templars lyrium, get us--get _them_ addicted to it. You can't get away from them, or you'll go mad from the withdrawal. I didn't want that, so I slipped out of the window one night."

He sighed. "I thought I'd hire on as a mercenary, but I had no arms or armor--or money. By the time Sanga's man found me, I was ready to do anything for an actual meal."

"Even this," Loghain said, and it wasn't a question. "And then, you discovered that you enjoyed it."

"Better than starving to death or becoming a lyrium-addled Chantry puppet," Alistair retorted.

"As you say." Loghain fished a sovereign out of his purse and set it on the bedside table. He was half tempted ask Sanga to reserve the boy for his use--he didn't like the idea of anyone else having him--but he suspected the price for that would be more than even he could afford. A boy who looked almost like the king's twin and liked being fucked was a gold mine.

"I will want to see you again," he said. "Tell Sanga I want her to let your hair grow out; I'm sure she'll agree." Alistair watched him leave, his face unreadable.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt from Telesilla. Also fills Loghain/Alistair prompt from the Dragon Age Kink Meme, and the "Prostitution" square on my Kink Bingo card.
> 
> This is set in an AU where Alistair runs away from the Chantry before taking his final vows and before Duncan recruits him into the Grey Wardens. The inspiration for this AU comes from the following conversation:
> 
> Zevran: You know, Alistair, Antiva has a long tradition of royal bastards.  
> Alistair: You don't say?  
> Zevran: Oh, yes. They've led wars to claim the throne. Some of them have become kings. In fact, I'd say the current royal line in Antiva stems from bastard blood several times over.  
> Alistair: Well aren't you just chock full of useless trivia today.  
> Zevran: Sadly, whenever a royal bastard rears their head in public and declares themselves, it often goes poorly for them.  
> Alistair: Let me guess: they get assassinated?  
> Zevran: Only the very popular ones.  
> Alistair: And the unpopular ones?  
> Zevran: Well, they get by somehow, I'm sure. There was one fellow who did quite well working as a prostitute based on his uncanny resemblance to the king. Charged a fortune.  
> Alistair: Couldn't afford him, I take it?  
> Zevran: That cynicism will serve you well, my friend. Hold onto it.
> 
> Naturally, when Telesilla and I found this on the Dragon Age Wiki, we both immediately thought, "Someone needs to write this." Because that's just how we roll. For some reason, I really liked the idea of Loghain hiring whore!Alistair in order to work out his Maric issues.


End file.
